


Song Lyric Meme Drabble Collection

by popfly



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Drabble Collection, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-10-28
Updated: 2004-10-28
Packaged: 2017-11-09 07:52:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/453099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/popfly/pseuds/popfly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was a meme going around at the time where people put their music playlist on shuffle then picked lyrics from the first 20 songs to post and other people wrote drabbles based on the lyrics. At the time I had no idea that a drabble was 100 words (though I think the definition may have shifted now?). Anyway, these are the drabbles I wrote for other people. Not including LJ names because many of them have been deleted/become defunct.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Song Lyric Meme Drabble Collection

_Here's the army that you mowed to the ground_

Deciding to ask Justin to move in with him again was a process of elimination. He listed all of the reasons not to, and then scratched them out in his head one by one.

After each thing had been crossed off and Brian couldn't come up with anymore he accepted defeat. He used to have layers of defenses. Justin had peeled them all away.

And Brian couldn't get himself to care.

 

_Between you and me, I only believe what I want to believe_

Justin had been told by enough people that Brian didn't believe in love, only fucking. He heard the words, but fuck the words. He didn't believe the words.

What Justin believed was the look in Brian's eye when he was staring at Justin, the way the hard line of his lips would soften, the way his eyelids drooped slightly. He believed the press of Brian's fingers on his hips, Brian's mouth on his his.

So when the words were spoken, Justin focused on the other things. That was what he believed in.

 

_I sit at my table and wage war on myself_

I shredded the cigarette slowly, letting the burn of anger simmer through my veins, heating my neck, my cheeks. I could feel the muscles in my shoulders tightening until I was sure they'd touch my ears. And the whole time the words "he knows, he knows" were repeating in my head.

I felt strung-out, taut in the worst way, and sick. And I hated every bit of it.

I was still shocked at the violence in the shove as he stumbled backwards through the door. The cold of the metal door against my back didn't do much to cool my anger, but the sound of his footsteps on the stairs certainly did.

 

_Oh yeah! I want to bask in your golden light_

Brian was high, and Justin was glowing.

He looked like he had a bright light shining at his back, a fine translucent halo all around his body, making his skin even paler, his eyes even bluer, everything else seeming shadowy and gray.

Brian wanted to get close enough to feel the warmth he was sure Justin was emitting, close enough that maybe he could get into the light, and the only way he could think of doing that was to drag Justin into the backroom and fuck him against the bricks.

Brian was high, and Justin was moaning into the wall. And now Brian was glowing too.

 

_This weather has me wanting love more tangible_

Brian rolled over for the sixteenth time that night and pulled the blankets up higher.

Justin had always complained about the loft being cold, and at first Brian had told him it didn't fucking matter, because it wasn't his loft. When Justin was with the fiddler Brian had kept the temperature in the loft at damn near eighty. After, when Justin came back, Brian let him adjust the thermostat.

When Justin left for LA Brian came home from dropping him off at the airport and thumbed the dial down to sixty.

If he was going to be cold at night he wanted to blame it on the air temperature, not the lack of a warm body in his bed.

 

_It must be your skin I'm sinking in, it must be for real, cos now I can feel_

Brian had always said he didn't believe in love, that he only believed in fucking.

When he was with a trick - strange hands grasping on his thigh, dull brown hair in the dim backroom lights - it was easy to remember.

When he was with Justin - warm palms skimming his skin, pale skin glowing in the blue light - he always forgot.

 

_Your heart is not open so I must go, the spell has been broken, I loved you so_

"In ways that I won't."

That's what sealed it. Justin wanted to hang on, wanted to keep thinking that Brian loved him in his way, and that it should be enough, but it wasn't anymore and Justin couldn't stay for won'ts and can'ts.

He wanted coulds and woulds. He needed them.

So he looked long and hard at Brian's back, at his head propped in his hand, and then he grabbed his coat and he left.

 

_Half of learning how to play is learning what not to play_

Loving Brian is an exercise in trial and error.

Justin can only learn what's allowed - what won't be met with a queen-out and a door slamming, or Brian's retreating back or that trademark Kinney sneer - after he's done it or said it and been met with one of those things.

The errors are less now that it's been four years, and a lot of it is because Justin has learned the rules, but a lot of it is that Brian finally changed them.

 

_Can you hear them, they talk about us_

"Everyone's watching us."

Justin did a slow perusal of the guys standing closest to where he and Brian stood, and no matter what they were doing - sucking, fucking, being sucked or fucked - they were all turned towards them. Eyes were on them, whether straight on or sidelong, and Justin's skin prickled slightly.

Brian pressed forward, and Justin could feel him from toe to forehead. "Let them watch. We'll give them a show."

Justin leaned back against the wall and let his eyes slip shut. If Brian kept grinding against him like he was, he didn't give a fuck who watched.

 

_Can you hear them, they talk about us_ , pt. 2

Brian left a hot, wet trail from Justin's ear to his collarbone and back again, flicking his tongue over Justin's skin before whispering in his ear.

"They're watching us because we're hot." 

Justin grabbed fistfuls of Brian's shirt and tried desperately not to buck his hips. "You're hot," he managed to gasp out, his chest pressing tighter against Brian's on every short, shallow inhalation.

"You too," Brian said, and it was almost a groan on Justin's neck. "Turn around."

Justin practically spun to face the wall, and braced his forearm on the rough surface, leaning his forehead on it. Brian had Justin's pants down around his knees and a condom on in mere seconds, and when he pushed in the first time he did it slow.

Justin could feel that Brian was performing, and Justin tried his best to help him put on a good show.

 

_It could all be so simple but you'd rather make it hard_

Justin can picture it clearly in his head, having a life almost like Michael and Ben (without the adopted sixteen year old ex-hustler of course, even if he did like Hunter), a normal life. Brian thinks it would be the end of the world, thinks that it would be too hard to commit to.

Justin thinks that it'd be easier than fighting to act like he didn't want it too.

 

_I used to dream that I would find the perfect lover someday_

It started with wet dreams about movie stars. Blonde ones, short ones, dark ones, tall ones. As long as they were male and semi-hot they'd have walk-on roles in Justin's fantasy.

He used to try to picture his perfect lover in his head, but he could never decide if he should be thin or muscled, have long hair or short, so eventually Justin gave up, and just decided that he wanted someone who would love him.

Now he knew that despite all of Brian's faults - and there were many, Justin knew - he was Justin's perfect lover. Justin had always wanted someone tall enough for Justin to fit under his arm, his chin, someone well-built but not big like Ben, someone with soft, dark hair and hazel eyes and smooth bronze skin.

He just hadn't known it until he met Brian.

 

_There goes my hero, watch him as he falls_

Brian having cancer is crap in so many ways. 

Not the least of which is having to face the idea of Brian being mortal. Justin doesn't think he ever really thought about Brian as being fallible.

Seeing him huddled on the tile of the bathroom, sweating like mad, his teeth chattering, Justin realizes that he really, really is.

 

_You were wrong, I was right, you said goodbye, I said goodnight_

The first time Justin was pretty sure Brian meant it. The second time Brian was less convincing.

By the third time Justin knew that Brian's goodbyes were as bullshit as Brian claimed love was. 

So he ignored them, and kept coming back. And it payed off in spades.

 

_Don't you think every kitten figures out how to get down whether or not you ever show up_

Brian is surprised the first time he finds Justin fucking a guy in the backroom. He stops and stares for a moment, but catches himself before anyone notices, and finds a spot against the wall where Justin is within range but not obviously the focus of Brian's attention.

He sneaks glances at him while he gets sucked by a well built brunette and wonders how often this happens.

Brian guesses from the measured pace of Justin's hips that it's probably more often than Brian would like to think.


End file.
